Reaching
by Megsio18
Summary: It's been five years since Peter's mother passed away and James has moved in raise the four brothers. Despite living in a full house, Peter is stuck in a battle all alone until James tries to step in and help him out. Please Review!
1. Alone

Peter sat alone on the living room couch. The room was dark; no lights were turned on inside the empty house. A distant streetlight created gloomy shadows in the room as it flowed through the curtains in front of the large window.

He is content with being alone for now. Grandmother took his three brothers into town for a nice dinner. He did not want to go, so he lied and said he was not feeling well and wanted to go to bed early. James was at a play rehearsal, though he should be home shortly.

He had been sitting silently, not moving, for over an hour. Part of him was afraid to be alone with himself, but at the same time, he did not want to be around anyone else. No one would understand him. They would not be able to convince him that everything would be alright for him someday. They would think he was crazy if they knew what thoughts were running through his mind; dark thoughts, constantly reoccurring thoughts about suicide. The act of ending his own life terrified him, but the calm and relief he longed for would only be achieved after his demise. How could anyone ever understand that?

He felt so relaxed and tired by the thoughts of his far-off tranquility, problem-free future that he did not notice James walk past the window as he approached the front door. James did not notice Peter, of course, because the room was mostly dark.

As soon as James unlocked the door, however, Peter snapped back into reality. James stepped through the door into the front hall. Peter quietly watched him from his seat, hoping James would not spot him in the adjacent room.

James turned the hall light on and hung his coat and hat on the hooks. He could see Peter sitting alone on the couch once the light shed across the room.

"Peter?" James asked as he stepped into the front room and turned on another light. "What are you doing sitting in the dark?"

"Just thinking," Peter softly responded.

A confused expression washed over James' face. "I thought your grandmother was taking you all out for dinner tonight?"

"She did. I didn't want to go though," Peter admitted.

"Oh," James muttered softly. He was worried about this boy. Lately he had been so quiet and alone. Even when he was in the room with everyone else, he seemed to be all by himself.

Peter wished James would not look at him like that. Peter could feel him looking straight at his mind and heart. He had almost grown afraid of James because of how well he could read him.

"What's the matter?" James looked so serious, so concerned that it almost made Peter afraid of himself. "Peter?"

Peter's eyes were quickly filling with tears and his throat was so constricted that he did not even try to speak. He only shook his head and looked at his hands, limply resting on his lap. He hoped James would walk away; he knew if he opened his mouth, he would lose everything.

"What's wrong?" James carefully moved towards him. With each step he took, it became more difficult for Peter to hold onto the tears. He shook his head again, as if to try and shake James away from him, then he tried to rub away the moistness that slowly began to seep from his eyes.

James sat down on the coffee table in front of Peter and studied his eyes, his motions, and the tears that were streaming down his face. He started sobbing and had a hard time catching his breath because he was trying to hold everything inside.

"Peter?" James asked again.

His voice was soft and gentle. In a way, Peter was comforted just to hear him speak; yet at the same time, he was embarrassed that James was witnessing him lose control of himself. The humiliation, pain, and fear were too much for Peter. He quickly pushed himself up off the couch and stood there for a short moment. He tried concealing his eyes with one shaky hand.

James did not need to see his eyes to know the intensity of his pain. He could easily hear the hopelessness and despair in Peter's sobs as he stood alone, trembling. James slowly rose off the small table to his feet as well and faced Peter, who was trying to do everything he could not to look back at him.

"Please, tell me what's wrong?" James asked the boy again. He wanted to understand so badly what Peter could be feeling that was making him break down like this. But Peter was stubborn, scared, and shut inside himself.

"No," Peter uttered, louder than he had intended for his voice to go. He could not take any more of it, standing in front of James, completely stripped of the front he had been living behind. He tried to push past James, to get out of the spotlight, but James reached forward and grabbed onto his arm. "Let me go, please," Peter softly pleaded.

But James would not loosen his hold on Peter. Instead, he wrapped both arms around him in a bear hug. He held Peter for a brief moment, not knowing what else he could do for him.

As much as he tried, Peter could not stop crying or shaking. He was somewhat calmed by James' hug, and he wanted to wrap his own arms around him and feel like everything would be alright, but his fear was still in control. He pulled away from James, instead of moving closer. He rushed through the living room and up the stairs.


	2. Empty

James started to hurry after him but when he reached the bottom of the stairs, George, Jack, Michael and their grandmother entered through the front door. They talked excitedly and joked with each other, completely unaware of the seriousness that plagued both James and Peter.

Peter's bedroom door slammed shut. James put a smile on his face as they all greeted him. "Where is Peter?" Grandmother asked. James pointed upstairs as the three boys moved past him and headed down the hall. "Well, I hope he is feeling better," she said as she hung her coat on the hook next to James' hat. She followed the boys to the back of the house. James hesitated, and then slowly made his way up the stairs.

He was nervous as he reached the top landing. He made his was towards Peter's room. He did not know what he would say or do in order to help the boy feel better; he did not even know what the problem was. He paused in front of Peter's door before gently knocking on the sturdy barrier. "Peter?" He waited, but there was no response. He could no longer hear him crying. "Can I come in, boy?" Again, there was no answer. James slowly turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. "Peter?" He looked for him, for those eyes that were so full of pain and unable to share it with anyone.

The room was empty. James pushed the door completely open and stepped inside. He felt a cool breeze in the empty room and saw that the window was open and the curtains fluttered as the wind blew through them. Peter must have climbed out the window, onto the roof, and then jumped to the ground below.

James turned quickly and raced out of the room, down the stairs, and out the front door. The only place he could think that the boy would go this late at night was the park where they had first met years ago.


	3. The Park

James thought of all the fun happy times he had shared with the boys and their mother in the park as he briskly walked through the vacant streets. The carefree park was now one of those young boys' dark, lonely escapes.

Once he reached the park, James walked across the large grassy field, looking all around for any sight of Peter. As he walked deeper into the park, he noticed something white next to one of the large tree trunks. The closer he got to the tree, the clearer it was becoming that it was Peter. He was leaning with his back against the trunk and did not notice that James was approaching.

Peter's breathing had slowed down a bit; he had begun to regain control of himself again. He wiped his eyes and cheeks with the back of his hand. Behind him came the sound of soft, slow footsteps. He immediately knew who it was as the sounds got closer, but he decided not to turn around to face James.

As James reached the tree, he remembered a time when he and the boys were so open with each other. If Peter had a problem, he did not hide it or try to run away from help. But lately, Peter had not discussed anything, good or bad, with anyone. James did not say anything to Peter; instead, he turned and also leaned with his back against the tree.

After a long pause, Peter quietly asked, "Why did you come here, Uncle Jim?"

"I want to try and help you with whatever is bothering you." James glanced at Peter, who still had his head hung low and turned away from him.

There was another long pause as Peter fought to hold control over his emotions. He started to sniffle and wiped his eyes. "What if you can't?" His voice was soft, shaky, and hopeless.

"But what if I can, Peter?" James slowly walked around him and leaned against the other side of the tree. He looked right at Peter. Peter stared at James' shoes. "What's made you so sad? What are you thinking about that is hurting you so deeply, boy?" James asked, hoping he would talk to him.

Peter shook his head. "I don't want to tell you."

"Why not?" James asked as he tried to find Peter's downward gaze.

"I don't want you to be upset with me. What I'm thinking is so terrible and wrong." Peter had begun crying again. "I can't tell anyone."

"That's not true. I won't be upset with you. I just want to try and help." James did not know what to do in order to make him more comfortable, to make him open up and reveal what it was that was bothering him so much. "Let's just go sit on a bench, okay?"

James tried to guide him over to the nearest bench, but Peter pulled away. "No," he protested, taking a few more steps away. "Don't do this to me."

"Do what? You're only hurting yourself more by not letting it out," James said with a firm, yet kind, tone.

"Fine! You want to know why I'm making such a fool of myself? Why I can't do anything right or make anyone else happy?" Peter finally burst, frustrated with James' pushing for answers and explanations. "I hate myself," he continued. "I hate everything that I've been feeling and thinking! No one should have to live like this…should they?" His eyes looked so lost and defeated.

"No," James quietly said. He was still not completely sure what Peter was so upset about, but he waited for him to continue when he was ready.

"No! It's just not fair! I just want it all to end." He looked down at his own feet, ashamed of his secret. "Everything…"

"What do you mean?" James asked as he took a couple steps closer to Peter.

"I want…" Peter tried to look for some kind of distraction, but the park was so dark and empty that he could not help but look back at James. "I want to kill myself…I just want to die."

"Peter," James softly said as he moved another step closer. "You have to believe that there is something better for you than all this pain and sorrow you're feeling right now. There's a reason; there's something more. Can't you believe that?"

Peter slowly shook his head and looked down at the ground again. "I tried. I've been trying for so long. I can't do it anymore." Peter slowly sat down on the grass. "I don't know what's happened to me."

James followed his lead and sat down next to him. The park was shadowy and silent as they both sat there for a few moments. "It's a chain reaction, you know?" James finally spoke up.

Peter was confused. "What is?"

"Your parents' death put you in this place. This dark, lonely, pained place. If you were to…end your life…someone else would be thrust into that very same place. And it may get so bad for that person that they decide to commit the same act that you're thinking about."

Neither said anything for a long time. Then Peter cleared his throat and glanced at James. "I don't want to be responsible for anyone else feeling like this, Uncle Jim." He shook his head and stared at the ground.

James put an arm around him. "It'll get better for you, I promise. You just have to keep looking ahead for that."

Peter sat under the tree, under James' arm, for a long time. He thought about life and death, love and hate, sorrow and joy, companionship and loneliness. To reach the realization that life was more than pain, it took the company of a friend to sit in silence in a vacant park at night.


End file.
